


Voice In My Head

by Jeaven



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phichit and Yuuri being best friends, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeaven/pseuds/Jeaven
Summary: Yuuri's anxiety always spiked during competitions, and it has always been hard for him to conquer it.Good thing Viktor entered his life.(aka two times Yuuri had to battle his anxiety without Viktor and two times they conquered it together)





	Voice In My Head

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of this year's Eurovision tonight I wrote a songfic to my favorite entry from Norway - Grab The Moment.  
> I hope you enjoy reading it & comments would make me very happy ^_^

**Voice In My Head**

It was the moment Yuuri had been waiting for for years.

And he wanted nothing more than to run away.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Phichit's voice was faintly echoing through the walls his anxiety had built up. Yuuri barely heard him and failed to give a response. He hadn't hidden his nervousness as well as he'd thought apparently, but that was hardly a surprise. It didn't even take his best friend to detect that Yuuri wasn't feeling well, as Celestino had already suggested going for a little walk around the rink.

That hadn't been helpful. At all.

Skate America was his first mayor competition, and it also happened to be his first time competing against Viktor. He couldn't fuck this up for a list of various reasons his brain had already provided him hours ago, on the top ranking _Viktor will think you're pathetic_ and _If you can't even do this you'll never make it to the Grand Prix Finale_.

He knew that focusing on his worries was the worst thing he could do right before skating but he simply couldn't drown out that voice in his head.

_Viktor will never even want to talk to you after he saw you failing this._

His heart rate had already doubled and his breathing was getting more shallow as well and there was nothing he could do except stand there and stare at the grey walls, contemplating whether he should just turn around and quit right on the spot.

"Dude!" A persistent shoulder pumped into him and Yuuri snapped out of his thoughts.

He blinked into the worried eyes of his Thai friend and realized he'd ignored Phichit for about ten minutes.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm just a little nervous."

Phichit raised his eyebrows.

Yuuri sighed. "Okay, I'm terrified. Everyone will be looking at me and..."

"Everyone?" Phichit echoed, grinning a little, and Yuuri cursed him for knowing him so well.

"Viktor will be here."

"If he decides to publicly declare his undying hate for you I'll punch him, don't worry."

A smile crept on Yuuri's face, but he still couldn't quite keep his nerves from flattering. "I mean it, Phichit."

Phichit's expression softened and grew more serious as he took in Yuuri's slumped figure and his shaking hands. "Even if you're not at your best today, that can happen to everyone," he told him softly.

Yuuri pouted. "Not to Viktor."

The Thai rolled his eyes. "Well, not everybody can be a frickin' marble statue, now can they?"

"No..." But that was the thing, Viktor was something that resembled the perfection of a statue carved out of marble and he was just a loser from Japan who couldn't even focus during skating.  
He heard an resigned huff of breath, and then suddenly two arms were wrapped around his shoulders and Phichit hugged him tightly.

"You worry too much," his best friend told him lightly.

"Can't help it," Yuuri grumbled into the fabric of his training suit.

"I know." Phichit pulled back and offered him a encouraging smile. "But they'd all be making a big mistake not to love you."

Yuuri could feel himself blushing crimson red and tried to wave his friend off, but Phichit wasn't having it and continued talking about how amazing he was until Celestino came to fetch them for the short program.

_I try to act cool but I’m boiling_   
_Feeling like a fool that was chosen_   
_Try to keep myself calm while my head was getting bombed_   
_Really need to get that good vibe going_

Yuuri felt like throwing up. Or crying. Preferably both.

He'd made it to the Gran Prix Finale, he was able to skate in front of the whole world, he'd fulfilled a dream that had seemed unreachable.

And yet, he'd never felt worse standing on the ice.

His legs were shaking so uncontrollably Yuuri doubted they'd even be able to carry his weight through the whole program. His knees resembled jelly and the thoughts in his head were running a thousand miles a hour.

Celestino was standing at the rink, watching him with worried eyes. He knew Yuuri wasn't feeling well, he probably already knew his protégée would fail him, even after all the training and the medals in the qualifiers. Yuuri didn't want to bring that shame onto him, but that only added to the weight on his chest.

At least Viktor wasn't watching. Or so Yuuri was hoping. He couldn't see him anywhere around the ice, and he doubted someone like Viktor would bother finding a screen to watch a performance from someone like Yuuri.

The first notes of his free skate song resonated through the giant hall and his skates started to glide, mostly thanks to muscle memory. He managed to complete the step sequence and the first jump without swaying too much, but his head wasn't in any of it, and he knew everyone in the audience could see it.

This was probably his only chance. Getting into the Gran Prix Final had been a surprise for him in itself, and he knew the odds of him making it a second time were undeniably low. He'd always wanted to win gold here, and he still wanted to now, but with every movement that seemed to slip further away from him, until he was flailing, helplessly reaching for his dreams and almost knocking his head onto the ice at the next triple axel.

The almost-fall rippled through his already frayed nerves like a knife, and his heart started beating rapidly in his chest, even louder than it had any right to.

Yuuri didn't feel safe being on the ice at all. It wasn't liberating, like it normally felt, but rather like he was trapped in a cage and everyone around him had gathered to laugh at him.

His legs moved on his own, completing the sequences without Yuuri putting any thought to it. But they were sloppy, and he simply couldn't manage jumps if he didn't concentrate and that was far away in that moment. His salchow didn't have enough rotations, and he landed on both feet anyway, his next axel made him sway again.

This was what he'd devoted his whole life to, and he was blowing it. His performance wasn't worthy of a Gran Prix Final.

He flinched and tripped thinking about the call he'd gotten just a few hours ago. Vicchan had been old, but he simply hadn't expected the poodle to die while he was away. He hadn't even begun to truly realize his loss, but he was aware of the fact that all his sacrifices had been for nothing.

When the music stopped, he barely stayed in his final position as long as he was required to. He hurried off the ice, passed Celestino without even looking at him and ran backstage, the tears already running down his cheeks.

He ended up hiding in the changing room, hoping nobody would come fetch him for the presentation ceremony. It wasn't like his presence was required anyway.

It hadn't even been a whole minute when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He was about to tell Celestino to leave him alone, but then Phichit whispered: "Yuuri."  
Wide- and ready-eyed, he spun around. "Phichit? But how did you..."

His friend grinned. "You think I'm letting a bunch of security guys keep me from helping my best friend?"

Warmth spread in Yuuri's chest. He'd never felt so grateful for the Thai, who'd not only come here despite not having qualified but was now wrapping his arms around him.

"It's okay, Yuuri," he whispered.

Yuuri smiled and let himself lean into the touch. It wasn't really okay, and he suspected he'd start to cry again sooner or later, but for the moment he forced himself to concentrate on Phichit's words.

_So when it’s all or nothing_   
_I put my nerves in the coffin_   
_So when it’s all or nothing_   
_I put my nerves in the coffin_

It was the worst déjà-vu of his life - and yet everything was different.

His knees were shaking, the tears just barely dried on his cheeks and he felt strangely empty after his outburst.

That Viktor caused.

Hearing Viktor say he'd quit being his coach should he lose had felt like an iron fist into his stomach. But now, after crying and shouting at Viktor, he felt, albeit empty, somehow relieved and free from the worries that had been circling inside his head just a few moments ago. His anxiety was still bubbling beneath the surface, but he'd buried it deep enough, and as soon as he stepped onto the ice everything else around him faded.

It was obvious Viktor was still upset from Yuuri's tears, which Yuuri found unnerving to say the least. Crying wasn't uncommon for him. In fact, his nerves had swayed during competitions more often than not. Viktor, being his coach, should've known that.

And maybe it was that, the realization that Viktor was far from perfect and that he really should've just believed in Yuuri, that gave him the confidence to put everything he had into his performance. He did what he until now had only been able to do during training and turned his nerves into passion for his skating.

He wanted to finally feel like he belonged on the ice again, but more importantly he wanted to show Viktor that he could believe in him.

And yeah, he didn't quite manage the flip. But the rotations were there and his newfound confidence pushed him all the way until the music stopped and he saw Viktor covering his face with both hands.

And that was when his rush left him like it had never really been there and his anxiety makes its way back to the surface, spilling a million questions and worries.

_Is he angry? Is he disappointed? What is it?_

Viktor ran towards him and Yuuri, despite his slight panic, couldn't help but do the same. It was almost as if he was drawn to Viktor by force.

"I did good, right?" He asked, before Viktor even really was within hearing range. Because the answer had to be yes. He'd poured everything into that performance. He'd never managed to battle his nerves so well and more than anything he wanted Viktor to be proud of him.

He never got an answer, but that thought left his world the second Viktor's lips touched him.

It was too short to be anything of worth; and Yuuri only realized what was happening when they both hit the ice. But then the memory crashed on top of him and _holy shit Viktor Nikiforov has kissed him._

His nerves were already coming up again, asking if it had been anything good for Viktor, reminding him that there were a thousand cameras around, but he didn't listen to that voice. Instead, he looked up at Viktor, saw the absolute adoration in his eyes and suddenly there wasn't enough space for doubt in his heart.

"That was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you've surprised me," Viktor told him and Yuuri melted into his touch.

"Never stop surprising me," he whispered and the loving glint in Viktor's eyes told him he wasn't going to.

_I’m gonna kill that voice in my head_   
_I don’t care about falling_   
_I’m gonna grab the moment_

Yuuri had been so sure that Viktor would go back to Russia after the Gran Prix Finale that he didn't quite know what to do with the opportunity to skate with him for another year. Back at the rink, when Viktor had been hugging him while babbling about his happiness, worrying had been the farthest thing on his mind. It was hard to panic when Viktor had that excited and happy impression directed at him.

Now, though, when they were headed to the banquet he had plenty of headspace to think, as well as dwell in the embarrassing memories he had from last year's party.

Viktor was babbling about how _dazzling_ his last performance was to watch, _but you still could've did that triple axel better_ , as always being himself and Yuuri's coach at once.

Thing was, Yuuri knew Viktor would have to coach him and practice himself simultaneously, and even for a legend like him this wasn't going to be easy.

It were ancient worries that crept up in Yuuri.

_I don't want to be a burden for him._

And the whole world would know, too. Everyone would know to which lengths Viktor Nikiforov went when it came to Yuuri Kastuki. To everyone else that maybe would've been flattering, but it just made Yuuri panic.

Upon entering the banquet hall, Yuuri could immediately feel all eyes on them. Viktor showed them a dazzling smile and tugged Yuuri along as he started to mingle with the group, congratulating Yurio on his win, who in return only told him to watch Yuuri's drinking.

Which probably wasn't such a bad suggestion, as he was feeling nervous enough to eye the champagne even though he'd promised himself he wouldn't touch a single drop of it.

"I guess I owe you a thanks."

Yuuri spun around.

Chris was grinning at him as if he'd been the one to win and break one of Viktor's records while he was at it.

Yuuri frowned. "You're welcome?"

Chris laughed. "I didn't expect Viktor to return to the ice, you know? It's hard to find your way back to your old form after such a long break, but he's willing to try thanks to you."

Yuuri shrugged. "I didn't really do anything."

It was true. If anything, he'd tried to push Viktor in the opposite direction, which obviously hadn't worked. And Viktor was the happier one of them regarding his return as well.

Chris shook his head, a mischievous smirk on his lips. "You don't have the faintest idea what you do to him."

Yuuri stared at him, puzzled, and didn't quite know how to respond.

Chris sighed. "It's a shame, really. Maybe otherwise you'd be willing to give us a little dance again."

Yuuri immediately felt his entire face flush and he instinctively hid in Viktor's jacket when Chris made his way over to JJ.

"Yuuri?" Viktor asked, confused by Yuuri's sudden half-hug. "What's going on?"

Yuuri considered telling him. It hadn't really been Chris that chased him into Viktor's arms. Or rather, Chris was just one part of a really big bundle of worries.

This time, it really was his best shot at winning the Gran Prix Finale. But it was also Viktor's last season and he wanted nothing more than to see him flourishing on the ice once more.

Managing both - Yuuri and his own skating - would be hard on Viktor, and probably on Yuuri too. He wasn't healed from his anxiety, and he probably never would be.

There were so many things that could go wrong that he felt like he was drowning in them.

"Yuuri?" Viktor prompted, again.

Yuuri raised his head to meet his eyes.

"Is there something bothering you?"

 _Something_ didn't even begin to describe it. But one step at a time was fine enough, Yuuri decided. He was scared of others judging their relationship, and so he reached up tug Viktor towards him.

Their lips met in a room full of people.


End file.
